Finding Comfort
by Angie63
Summary: Tag to Dark Dynasty. Back at the bunker Dean tries to help Sam find comfort.


Finding Comfort

Tag to _Dark Dynasty_

The drive back to the bunker was silent. Painfully so. Sam was overcome with grief and guilt. Dean was angry beyond angry and devastated over finding Charlie. They had brought Charlie home. She would have a Hunter's funeral. Dean had placed her body in one of the back rooms, carried her in himself because it tortured him, angry as he was to think of making Sam do it. His brother was punishing himself. So Dean wasn't about to add to it. Running a hand through his hair and down his face, Dean swore. " _Damn."_ He was talking to no one. As he strolled through the map room , he was reminded of the night Kevin died. This was just as bad, just as mind numbing except this time he and Sam were _together_ and neither one of them was hurt or did the killing. Dean paused at the Scotch decanter and poured himself a large shot. It burned going down but in a good way. Sam hadn't said a word the whole way back and when they'd gotten home, he just headed to the shower room. Dean let him go. He knew Sam needed space. God he was tired of the lies and the secrecy. _Why_ hadn't they just come clean? He'd have been mad but Charlie would be alive. And where the hell was the damn Book of the Dammed? Questions he needed and wanted answers to but not tonight. Tonight he planned on keeping it together and trying to not fight with his brother.

 _Charlie loves you Dean. We all love you._ That was the moment Dean decided to try to get back some control. He _knew_ they loved him. Sam, Charlie, Cas. But hearing his _brother_ say it was stunning to Dean Winchester. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Sam say the L word. Or the last time he'd said. Oh he thought it all the time. When he watched Sam sleep, when Sam smiled, when Sam was hurt or sick, he 'd think, _God I love him._ But he wished somehow he hadn't stopped saying it. He'd said when he took Sam to the bus station for Stanford. Dad had been so angry. It had been raining and Dean wasn't about to let Sam walk away in the rain. It hurt like hell, like he was ripping his own heart out of his chest but he'd done it. He remembered standing there, Sam looking scared but somehow victorious and he'd handed Sam the three hundred dollars he'd won at pool the night before. Then he'd pulled the kid into a crushing hug that his brother returned and before he let him go he'd put his hand on the back of Sam's neck and squeezed hard. And he'd said, "I love you Sammy." Then Sam left and Dean stood there in the rain and watched him go. _Fourteen years since he'd actually opened up his mouth and said I love you to his kid brother?_

He heard Sam in his room. Dean sat his glass down, poured one for Sam and carried it down the hall. He stood in the doorway. Sam was slumped down on the bed and he looked miserable. Devastated and Dean's heart broke a little more. It was okay for _him_ to feel this way but not _Sam._ Dean crossed the room and sat beside his brother on the bed. He offered the drink and Sam took it. They sat side by side for a few minutes and it felt almost as bad as those days after they lost Bobby. Just sitting, in silent pain, for days. _Not this time_ , Dean thought. He stood up and paced the floor.

"Look Sam.."he began. But Sam held up his big hand, tears spilling over.

"No, Dean. Don't. Don't tell me Charlie's death is _your_ fault. Cause it's _not. Okay?"_

Dean walked over to his brother. He pulled the desk chair close to the bed. Sitting down, he reached out and took the drink from his brother's hand, worried Sam might break it. He placed it on the floor at his feet. Then he reached out and grasped both Sam's hands. He laced his fingers around Sam's to keep him from pulling away. "Sam. I don't think it's _your fault. Or_ mine.I think …she was alone and unprepared, I think she maybe got too confident. Look man, I don't know what you guys were up to. I don't want to know tonight, I _do_ want to talk about it later. But I _do_ know this, she left Cas on her own. I don't know how she gave an angel the slip but she did. Maybe Cas knows why."

The thing was, Sam knew why. But Dean said he wasn't up to talking about it tonight. He'd find out. And likely he'd be pissed. And hopefully not go all Incredible Hulk when he found out about Rowena. He felt Dean's hands wrapped around his, and it was real, it was comforting, grounding. He needed Dean so much right now. He looked into his brother's face, saw green pain filled eyes and lost it. Sobbing, and not even trying to control it. "I…am ..responsible….Dean. I….asked…her…for …help …and ….she..I ..left…her…alone…"

Dean unlaced his hands from Sam's and knelt down in front of Sam , wrapping his arms around him, pulling his head into his shoulder. "Breathe Sammy. " he cradled the back of Sam's head with his hand. "That's it. Sam, you left her with _Cas._ You didn't k _now this was going to happen._ " Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, clutching the back of his shirt in both fists. Dean held on and then he began to cry. Too much loss, too much collateral damage. When would it ever end for them?

How long they clung to each other and cried they didn't know. They cried for Charlie and Kevin and Bobby and for the time they'd lost fighting last year, for Dean's death and the _fucking mark of Cain._ They held onto each other, crying, whispering assurances and finally there were no tears left. But Dean didn't move, didn't let go. He was feeling afraid of what he'd find out tomorrow. Of being angry, of wanting revenge , of making a funeral pyre for a beloved friend. He wanted to stay put, here with the only safe harbor he knew. There was something he needed to say . It was too hard. All of it. _Screw it._ " _I love you Sammy."_

His brother looked up. The look on his face was shattering to Dean. It was a mix of surprise , and sadness and pure joy. They were all mixed up in very possibly the _worst_ mess even they had ever seen and Dean had just said _I love you._ When had his brother said that last? Growing up Dean said it often, usually at night, falling asleep as kids, or when Sam was scared , sick or hurt. He knew it, knew it so deeply that it hurt that he was loved by his big brother. He had never once, even when Demon Dean was talking to him in the dungeon doubted his brother loved him. But to hear it….and he remembered. Leaving for Stanford. And he'd said "we all love you" in the car to Dean. And then despite everything that had happened tonight..this. This gift so rare and special. Sam was teary eyed again that it took something as awful as losing nearly every person they had ever loved to be able to hear three familiar words from his brother's mouth. He placed a hand on Dean's neck, squeezed and said, "I love you too."

Dean patted Sam on the cheek and stood up. "We've got work to do. We need some rest. He waited for Sam to stand up and pulled back the sheets an blankets. Sam admitted the need to lie down. Dean put the desk chair back and drug the comfortable armchair Sam used for reading really close to the bed. He took off his boots, snagged a pillow and sat down, feet on the foot of the bed.

"Dean. You can go lie down in your bed. I'll be okay."Sam said as Dean settled in. he didn't want Dean to go, but his brother was exhausted . Dean shook his head.

"Nope. I got this watch. Go to sleep Sam." Somehow Sam knew the only way for Dean to get through this night was to fall asleep in his chair, keeping watch, being the big brother. In charge, in control. So he closed his eyes and he dozed. For how long he wasn't sure. He stirred and opened his eyes. There was Dean, slumped down in one corner of the armchair, face buried partially in the pillow, his left hand holding his arm near the mark.. Sam reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed and covered him up. AS he tried to go back to sleep, Sam watched Dean sleep. In the morning he had no idea what would happen. But tonight he would treasure the closeness, the little bit of comfort and healing, the love expressed. He put his hand on Dean's leg. _I've got this watch. God I love you. I can't lose you._ Such were the thoughts in Sam Winchester's head the night Charlie Bradbury died.


End file.
